


Please Be My Wi-Fi!

by minkie (alraunechan)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, College AU kinda, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, MariBat, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25800901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alraunechan/pseuds/minkie
Summary: based on this prompt:"Marinette trying to mooch off of Damian's wifi and jokingly putting [her] name in as the password, then being shocked that it actually works and [she's] now connected to Damian's wifi..."it's pretty much just fluff and an excuse to write Daminette.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Comments: 52
Kudos: 445





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> legit haven't written anything in like 3yrs, let alone in the MariBat fandom.  
> so hi o/
> 
> this chapter ended itself at the halfway point of the story, so i do plan to add an "epilogue" chapter.  
> i don't make the rules, apparently.

Marinette didn't want for much, really. At 19, she was quite accomplished; her fashion brand was quickly on track to compete with any other couture label in the business after she'd finally graduated  _ lycée _ .

On top of that, she had her very own apartment situated comfortably close to her university. Sure, it may have been located in one of the world's greatest hotbeds for crime, but she was independent, dammit!

She'd also successfully defeated her long-time nemesis, Hawkmoth, after years of emotional terrorism, and brought him to justice.

But really, she was just a normal, 19-year-old college student who just  _ happened _ to be in possession of a collection of super-powered jewelry.

Which brought her back to her current dilemma; her next-door neighbor, a surly, brooding guy she'd managed to befriend somewhere along the way, was standing between her and her Netflix bingeing. Or, more accurately, his wi-fi password was.

See, Marinette, with all her accomplishments and cunning, was still but a scatterbrained klutz who sometimes forgot certain things; things like checking her mail, or forgetting to make a grocery list, or  _ forgetting to pay her internet subscription. _

So, here she sat, on one of her rare days off from both commissions and schoolwork, trying to  _ (illegally) _ connect to her neighbor's  _ (andmaybealsocrush's) _ wi-fi.

Of course, the  _ real _ issue wasn't figuring out his password, no,  _ she was (formerly) Ladybug, for goodness sake! _ No, she  _ had _ figured out his password, albeit mostly on accident. After several minutes of trying to remember any miniscule detail of his that might clue her in to his thought process, she'd jokingly typed in her name. A name she knew to be uncommon; a name she knew was uncommon to  _ him. _

This, of course, led her down a spiral of questions, not the least of which was  _ why on EARTH _ he would have  _ her name _ as his wi-fi password. Needless to say, any thoughts of Netflix  _ or _ chill had been forgotten.

A sudden shuffling of feet and the jingle of keys, no doubt belonging to the man of the hour, brought her out of her stupor and she quickly disconnected from Damian's ( _ the _ Damian  _ Wayne's _ ) wi-fi, shut her laptop, unplugged and shoved it under her couch, and fled to her bedroom, whereupon she, like the mature, independent adult she was, curled up in her closet and shut the doors.

  
  
  
  


* * *

As he shut the door to his apartment, Damian considered the noise he'd heard from his neighbor's place next door. It was rather unusual to hear commotion like this from her. Marinette had a work ethic he could admire and rarely ever caused a disturbance.

Initially, he'd been prepared to make as little contact with his neighbor as possible, but she'd been the one to introduce herself first and inform him of her sewing activities, out of consideration. Of course, he'd already done cursory background checks on every tenant in the apartment complex and was already well aware of her extracurricular business. (Really, he wondered how she thought  _ MDC _ was some kind of secret identity.)

Nevertheless, she hadn't tried to seek anything from him, or rather, the Wayne name. In fact, she'd proven wholly unaware of his identity. He supposed it wasn't out of the question, considering she appeared to be on student visa from France, if her accent was anything to go by.

Over the course of the following months, they'd developed a sort of repertoire that evolved from a courteous acknowledgement of each other should they happen to pass each other in the hallway to making small talk and occasionally texting once she'd met Titus and  _ demanded _ he show her photos and videos of said dog.

Perhaps that had been the final nail in his coffin; discovering her absolute love for  _ all _ animals. She'd offhandedly mentioned meeting a crocodile that belonged to someone she knew, whom he'd deduced had to have been Jagged Stone. In turn, he'd mentioned his cat and divulged his passion for rescuing strays. The look in her eyes when he'd told her this had him pause, and for the first time since coming to Gotham, he felt like he was out of his depth.

A tug on the leash still in his hands brought him out of his reverie. Unclipping Titus's leash and returning it to its hook, his mind returned to the present. The  _ very obvious _ hasty retreat of his neighbor at the sound of his arrival. She was hiding something. She was hiding something  _ from him. _

Tamping down the urge to barge into her place, he opted to slip his phone out of his pocket instead.

* * *

  
  


Inside of her small, walk-in closet, a vaguely Marinette-shaped cocoon sat, catastrophizing, when her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket. Against her better judgement, she checked the notification only to find the source of her current distress was messaging her.

Despite knowing that her heart was  _ in no state to be dealing with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding _ , her curiosity won out and she read Damian's message.

**_Damian_ ** _ : Are you alright? I heard a crash coming from your room. _

She swooned.

It was so like him to ask after her and make sure she was alright. Truly, she had it  _ bad _ .

So lost in her daydream was she that she altogether forgot to respond, despite knowing she had read receipts on, prompting Damian to try calling her instead.

In a panic, she picked up without having prepared herself.

"Damian!"

_ Why had she just blurted out his name instead of an actual greeting?! _

_ "Marinette." _

_ And OF COURSE he was unfazed. _

A beat of silence passed.

_ "Marinette? I can hear you breathing over the line. Please let me know if you're alright." _

Ok. She could do this! Just a simple  _ 'Oh I'm fine! Sorry to worry you!' _

Unfortunately, what came out instead was:

"I'M YOUR PASSWORD!"

_ Shit. _

Another beat of silence passed.

On the other end of the line, Damian was trying to process her train of thought but before he could say anything else, Marinette spoke again.

"Sorry! I'm password! I was just looking at my fine! No! I-I mean! I'm fine! I was just watching tv!"

_ "Marinette-" _

"You know! there's a lot of good movies these days! Oh! Do you like movies? Everyone likes movies! We should go see a movie together! Not! Not  _ together _ together!! We could invite all our friends! Oh but that's a lot of people so maybe not all of them! Who do you want to invite?! I don't know a lot of people here. I used to go to the movies with Kagami; she's my friend back in Paris, although I guess she's not in Paris anymore! I haven't heard from her in so long! Do you think I should call her? I'm going to call her. Maybe she would wanna go to the movies--!"

_ "Marinette!" _

She paused and jerked her head back to look at her phone which  _ so kindly _ reminded her she was currently on the phone with none other than her big, fat crush  _ whose eyes were like sparkling Jade, perfectly framed by long, dark lashes that fluttered when he looked down at her and if she juuuust stood up on her toes she could close the distance and-- _

_ "-ocus, Marinette!" _

"Kiss him!" she blurted out.

_ "WHAT?! KISS WHO?!! Marinette, are you alright?! Is someone there with you?!" _

"Mon Dieu! Sorry! Oh my  _ god! _ I can't believe I just said that out loud!"

Marinette could feel her face burning and fought the urge to throw her phone into the street and ask Kaalki to send her to an uninhabited island where she would use the local flora to make her clothes.

That deep, dark rumble of Damian's voice, sighing  _ directly in her ear, _ simultaneously calmed her frayed nerves and caused her heart to skip a beat.

_ "May I come over, Marinette?" _

And really, what was she supposed to say?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the riveting conclusion to the tale of wi-fi hijacking and teenage angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> terribly sorry for the wait!
> 
> aight. imma level with y'all. i wrote this story fully intending it to be light-hearted, dumb romcom fun.  
> that is. not. what happened.  
> these two took my story and ran away with it. i'm sorry.  
> also i wrote and re-wrote it a lot and idk it got sadder the more i wrote. (still only light angst tho)
> 
> anyway, please, don't hesitate to point out any errors you find at all (especially continuity errors i may have missed)! i did not beta!

_She hesitantly nodded before realizing he couldn’t actually see her._

_“...Yeah.”_

  
  


With that, she had sealed her fate; whatever that may be.

* * *

  
  
  


After the call had been disconnected, Damian loosed a deep breath and tried to prepare for the inevitable.

Undoubtedly, Marinette had found his wi-fi password. There was nothing else she could have meant. He suddenly regretted everything.

Worse, this meant there was no hiding it; _it_ being his romantic feelings for Marinette. Judging by her behavior both on the phone and her presumed panic at the sound of his arrival earlier, she had already made the connection.

He’d never intended to actually reveal his feelings to her, or _anyone_ , really, but he figured luck just wasn’t on his side.

Since he'd just gotten back from Titus's walk, he figured he should at least change his shirt, _and not at all because he was stalling for time._ Having no other excuses to bide his time, he walked out his front door and locked it (despite only going next door, he'd be damned if he gave Gotham an inch).

He gave a curt knock on Marinette's door out of courtesy, and waited, feeling like a man on death row. The sound of soft, hesitant footsteps beyond her door only spiked his heart rate further.

The door first opened just a crack as the very nervous, unmistakable, Bluebell eyes of Marinette Dupain-Cheng peeked up at him through her lashes. And just like that, Damian's insides turned to goo and he couldn't help the absolutely _besotted_ smile that took over his features. In that moment, he couldn't have denied her anything in the world.

"Marinette."

  
  
  
  


When Marinette finally looked up at Damian through the crack of her door, the sight she saw left her weak in the knees. Damian was looking directly at _her_ with the most gentle eyes she'd ever seen from him. Even her most prevalent insecurities couldn't mistake that look for anything other than _pure affection._

The way he _breathed_ her name, without any trace of expectation, as though her name _belonged_ on his tongue, finally pushed her over the edge and she broke down.

  
  


At the sight of Marinette's tears, Damian sprung forward, easing into her apartment to hold her. He had just enough foresight to close the door behind him and maneuver them both to her living room sofa.

  
  


It had been so long since Marinette had really _felt_ anything, let alone felt _wanted._ Her traitorous thoughts demanded that she clarify what that look meant, but all she wanted was to cry and feel safe in his arms a little longer.

  
  


Damian, on the other hand, was woefully inexperienced with comforting anyone, especially so _physically,_ but he knew he didn't want to let her go. He could feel her tears making a mess of his shirt, and yet it only made him want to hold her tighter as she trembled and shook in his arms. He may not have had first-hand experience with trying to comfort someone, but at the very least, he knew this was about more than just him.

He could feel the agony falling off of Marinette's positively _tiny_ figure in waves, and so he waited.

  
  


After what may have been hours or only minutes, Marinette had finally cried herself out but she didn't move from the warmth of Damian's embrace; didn't have the strength to. Instead, she let her head fall to the side, cushioned by one of Damian's biceps and looked up into his face.

What she saw was a soft concern and a distinct lack of irritation like she feared she might find. In lieu of words, Damian's other hand came up to brush stray strands of hair from her wet face and gently cup her jaw. She should have tensed when she felt his warm breath suddenly a few centimeters from her face, but just as quickly as she had the thought, a feather-light kiss was pressed to her forehead and she let out a weak, breathless giggle.

When she looked back up at him, a completely serene and entirely foreign smile graced Damian's features. She let herself bask in the quiet of the intimate moment just a little longer before she finally whispered "Thank you," too afraid to break whatever bubble they were in together.

At the sound of her tiny voice, Damian just nodded and they fell back into silence, still wrapped up together.

Eventually, the gnawing of Marinette's insecurities and anxious thoughts barreled back into her and she mourned the loss of the quiet in her head. She knew she had to say _something_ and try to explain her sudden breakdown.

Despite it being months since she had settled into this new life and unwittingly made herself a place in Damian's life, she'd never really spoken about her time in Paris; she hadn't even let herself _think_ about it. Now, though, she couldn't sweep it under the rug like usual. She owed it to Damian to open up. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was still terrified of being rejected, of being brushed off, even after he'd proven in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't judge her.

Still securely sat within the circle of Damian's arms, she spoke about the horrors of Hawkmoth for the very first time since leaving her home. Not once did Damian interrupt her, ask for clarification, or utter a single sound until she finished.

"No one really ever got over what Hawkmoth did to them. We all knew that akumas were just victims, but the guilt of letting him win never goes away, either," she murmured at the end.

  
  


Damian was already somewhat aware of the situation in Paris over the last few years, but hearing a firsthand account was altogether a more frustrating experience. The JLA had been barred from intervening by the JLE and Wonder Woman herself who had made contact with the Parisian hero Ladybug. There was something about a legacy mantle, but the end result was that this was not the Bats' battle.

Looking at Marinette now, barely keeping herself together, Damian regretted not doing _more._

"You're Ladybug," it was a statement.

  
  


Marinette didn't even have it in her to be surprised. Of course he would have figured it out after hearing her talk. It was something of a relief that he just _understood._ All these years and no one in her life had _ever_ understood.

Her head wearily resting on his bicep, she weakly bobbed her head in some semblance of a nod. His response was the near imperceptible tightening of his arms around her. She could feel new tears stinging at her already puffy eyes. Apparently, it didn't go unnoticed by Damian as he gently coaxed her to rest her head on his chest; her tears silently soaking through the soft cotton of his shirt for the second time that day.

"Damian?" she spoke mostly into his chest.

His answering hum reverberated through his chest and made her shiver.

Turning her head just enough so she could peek up at him, she continued.

"...Sorry i figured out your wi-fi password."

  
  


He blinked and felt a grin stretch his lips before he let out a snort.

"I'm glad you did, Sunshine," he punctuated by pressing his lips to her hairline.

"Does this mean…?"

"That you are a special existence to me? It does. I regret to admit that it was actually Kent's doing and not mine, but I never changed it, either. I adore you, Marinette, as I've never adored anyone else."

  
  


A brilliant flush bloomed across her cheeks at that and the smile that followed it actually hurt her cheeks.

"I'm glad the feeling's mutual, Dami."

  
  


As they sat entwined together, feeling worlds away from just that morning, as if the entire world had shifted, Marinette drifted off in Damian's arms.

"Sleep well, Angel."

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


When next she opened her eyes, Marinette couldn't quite orient herself but vaguely recognized the warmth of a blanket around her shoulders.

Blearily blinking away the sleep from her eyes, she was assaulted by a hammering headache and the telltale stinging of bloodshot eyes.

Suddenly, she remembered her talk with Damian.

Forcing her exhausted eyes open, she scanned the room and found that she was in her own bedroom, sitting under her own comforters. There was a distinct absence of a second person in her room, however. Fighting down the anxiety and disappointment of Damian's absence, she got to her feet and padded out to the hallway.

When she reached the threshold of her kitchen, she heard the sounds of her door being unlocked from the outside. Peeking into her living room, she saw Damian step through her front door, key in hand.

Their eyes met and he smiled lopsidedly at her, holding up a small paper bag.

"I fell asleep."

He nodded.

"Sorry."

At that, he gave her an indecipherable look and closed the door behind him. He walked the rest of the distance to the kitchen and set the bag on her counter.

"It's just after lunch but I wasn't sure how long you'd be out. I picked up some croissants from the cafe down the street."

Just like that, her butterflies were back. She had to look down to avoid his gaze but there was no hiding the blush adorning her cheeks.

She reached out to curl her fingers around his.

"...Thank you," she murmured.

It wasn't the croissants she was referring to.

  
  


She gestured for him to have a seat at her small table and went about preparing mugs and her kettle for tea.

She'd apparently only been out for a little over an hour, which was a relief in itself, but also brought her attention to Titus and his lunchtime walk. He told her he'd just gotten back from the walk that afternoon and they continued their small talk while the kettle boiled.

  
  


Black tea (with milk and sugar for Marinette) and croissants having been shared, Marinette braced herself to broach the topic she _really_ wanted to discuss.

"I-I really like you, Damian. R-Romantically, I mean. Um. I just wanna know where we go from here… Um, what happens now?"

Despite her attempts to tamp down her nerves, she couldn't help but twiddle her thumbs as she spoke. Logically she knew Damian wasn't _uninterested_ in her, but when had logic ever comforted her anxious mind?

Outwardly calm, yet undoubtedly nervous to Marinette's appraising eyes, Damian clasped his hands in front of him.

"Marinette, I don't think I could fool either of us if I said I didn't want us to be more than friends."

The only tell of his trepidation was his thumb running over the other one while he spoke.

"You are a whirlwind, Marinette. I don't keep many relationships in my life, but I find myself drawn to you. You invade my idle thoughts and though I would find anyone else a bother, I enjoy your presence more than anyone else. I want you to be with me."

  
  


For all that she thought she had moved past the life-altering revelations, Damian's words rattled her still frayed nerves and she felt tears welling up again.

Unwilling to be upstaged by yet more tears, Marinette found her voice.

"I-I have trouble getting close to people after… after moving here. I think I forgot that I needed to deal with everything that happened. I'm still scared of trusting other people. But with you… I've never felt pressured to be someone when I'm with you. I feel… like I can _breathe_. What I mean… is that I feel like I can be myself with you."

She forced herself to maintain eye contact with him even as her brain screamed at her to run away and hide. She owed it to him, to be as honest about her feelings as he'd been.

"I don't know when it started, but I always find myself thinking about you. I get happy when I think that your smiles are just for me and I don't know if that's selfish or not. Damian, I-I… I'm in love with you!"

She couldn't hold back her tears anymore at that point and felt the heat of them fall down her face. For the first time in _so_ many years, Marinette knew what she wanted and even fear couldn't stand in her way.

Even as her voice wobbled and her vision blurred, she pressed on.

"I want to be your girlfriend, Damian!"

His name came out more as a hiccup than anything else but before she could completely fall apart, he was at her side again.

  
  


Taking one of her small, trembling hands in his, Damian touched his forehead to hers and made sure she couldn't look away as he smiled a heartbreakingly open smile just for her.

"I love you, Marinette. Please be my girlfriend."

She attempted a watery smile but instead burst into another round of sobs, burying her wet face into the crook of his neck, nodding her head frantically all the while.

Damian wrapped his other arm around her and held her protectively to his chest, rubbing comforting circles on her back and pressing kisses to her hair until her sobs dissolved into hiccups. When she finally looked up at him again, her smile was so fragile but hopeful as she glanced down at his lips. He was all too eager to oblige.

  
  


There, in her dimly lit kitchen, with Damian kneeling in front of her, their lips met.

  
  
  
  


Marinette's first kiss tasted like warm butter and tears.


End file.
